Potential
by alibi2014
Summary: Robin's stuck with it.


**Look who's posting her first new Teen Titans story in over a year! I miss Teen Titans. I miss it a lot. Anyway, I started this during the summer and then recently rediscovered it and decided to finish it. My apologies for the big blocks of text, but it just didn't feel right making them into smaller paragraphs. I hope your eyes can forgive me.**

**Reviews always appreciated and replied to!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, true believers.**

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The part of the acrobatics routine Robin likes best isn't when his name is announced. It isn't when he climbs up the ladder. It isn't even when he grabs hold of the beam and jumps into the air. Robin's favorite part of the acrobatics routine comes at the end, when he's on the ground again, standing between his mommy and daddy. It's when he takes their hands and bows. But it's not because he cares about the applause or the flashing lights; it's because for that split second that they're folded over while bowing— folded like a birthday card, his mommy used to say— if he looks at his daddy's face he knows that he's made him proud tonight. Mr. Haly and the rest of the circus troupe are always telling Robin how much potential he has, how they've never seen someone start so young and master all the tricks, especially at the trapeze, which they say is the hardest act of all. But Robin doesn't care so much what they all say. All he really cares about is the smile on his daddy's face, one of pride and love and confidence in his son. Robin will practice all day on their days off and will even practice instead of going to the movies with his friends if it means seeing that look on his daddy's face. 

Robin is six years old, and he wants nothing more than to make his daddy proud.

It doesn't take long for Robin to get used to changing his sleeping patterns to staying up most of the night and sleeping sometimes during the day. _Nocturnal_, he tells himself. _Like a bat. _If that's what he has to do, that's what he'll do. It takes longer to get used to the cape and boots and gloves. He's used to flying through the air, but not to doing so with a bunch of extra fabric billowing out from his back while his feet are weighed down and his hands have to find purchase through yet more fabric. But Robin knows he has to get used to this, too, because that's the only way he'll be able to be Robin— not the Robin he used to be, the Robin that was Dick, but _Robin_ Robin— the one that will help Batman fight crime. And the clothes are well worth getting used to, because he hasn't felt this alive in forever, not since Tony Zucco took away his parents and he left the troupe to live with Bruce Wayne. And even when he found out Bruce was actually Batman— which is _so coo__l—_ Robin didn't think it would be the same. But then Bruce told him his acrobatic skills gave him so much potential, and asked him to help him, to be a superhero and fight beside him, and Robin could see in his eyes the beginnings of that same look he'd seen in his father's eyes so long ago.

Robin is nine years old, and he wants nothing more than to fight alongside Batman.

There is something about being a leader that is alarmingly different than being a follower. Robin could have guessed this a long time ago; it's not exactly a surprise. But what is a surprise is _how_ different it is. When he was alongside Batman they would sometimes split up to patrol different areas and Robin would have to devise his own path and his own actions. The older he got the more Robin looked forward to that, to being able to make his own choices and take his own risks. Now that he's leading the Teen Titans he doesn't only decide what _he's_ going to do— he has to decide _everything_. He knows his teammates are more than capable of fighting tactfully, but it's his responsibility to make sure they fight the best they can, to make sure they all fight as one team instead of five separate units. And most importantly, most worryingly, it's his responsibility to make sure they don't just win— they survive. He'd been craving being allowed to grow up and take responsibility. He just hadn't realized it would be this _much _responsibility. Sometimes he worries it's all going to become too much for one teenage boy. It will usually be after an especially brutal fight that he wonders if he's really up to this job. After all, being responsible for his own life is one thing; being responsible for four others is quite another. But times like these, he just has to look at his teammates. Going back to the Tower after finally beating their opponent, they may all be bruised and scraped and tired, but none of them look like they're ready to call it quits. Once his father and Batman told him he had potential, and now he needs to prove that they were right. They gave him the skills to be strong; now he sees that he needs to be strong for his friends.

Robin is fifteen years old, and he wants nothing more than to be the strength his team needs.

It is cold and dark in Slade's hideout. It isn't cold like the Batcave was cold, or dark like his room at Titans Tower is dark. It's almost as if warmth and light just can't physically exist in a place this devoid of humanity. Robin kneels on his knees, and it is the hardest thing he has ever had to do. The fire of humiliation burns him, the repulsive black and orange suit a poisonous second skin. Robin bites his tongue to keep from lashing out as Slade explains with sickening calmness his expectations of his new apprentice. He pauses in his speech, and Robin hopes it is over, but then Slade is again launching into why Robin was the lucky one chosen to work under his tutelage and succeed him when he's gone. It is because of Robin's intelligence, Slade says, and his determination and resourcefulness and quick thinking. It is because of his skill with weapons and hand-to-hand combat and his agility with his grappling hook and motorcycle. It is because Slade doesn't have to look very hard to detect the similarities he and the former Titan share. It is because of all these things that Slade sees such amazing potential in Robin. And it is this potential, more than anything else, this potential to become faster, smarter, stronger, _better,_ that Slade has been so good as to take Robin under his wing and make him his apprentice.

Robin is sixteen years old, and he wants nothing more to have no potential at all.


End file.
